Saturated Loneliness
by Ryla Dante
Summary: This is my first Supernatual mix...by that I mean a little bit of SongFicWincest hoping ya like it, so be nice and R&R! I WILL return the favour! Rated M for language and content, and this is not a porn!


**Here is my first story...I know I should be working on my NOES story, but hey, sue me...**

**A/N: The character's are not mine, so if i don't own anything, you can't sue me. Nyah nyah nyah nyah nyah nyah!!!!**

**The song is Tearjerker by Korn...just thought it fit with what they boys were going through...enjoy!!**

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**Saturated Loneliness**

'_Well I wish there was someone_

_Well I wish there was someone to love me_

_When I used to be someone_

_and I knew there was someone that loved me...'_

Dean looked down at a picture of his late father, emotions boiling just under the surface. As a tear slipped past his dark eyes, he threw the framed photo at the closed door in front of him. Sammy opened it just as the glass shattered loudly. He pressed his back against the doorjamb, and sighed. Dean had only recently told him how he had felt, but it still did not stop him from taking fits at odd moments. Sam entered the room and grabbed Dean's wrist. He was hot, his blood no doubt about to burst through his skin.

Dean pulled away from Sammy with a 'not now' look, and flopped down on the hard hotel bed. It creaked, and he fell back putting his hands over his face. Tears flooded past his slim fingers, scaring Sammy. He had seen Dean cry only once, and that was when he finally broke down and confessed everything to him. He wanted to hold him, stroke his hair, tell him it would all be okay, but he knew that it was not possible now. He sat beside Dean and just...waited.

'_As I sit here frozen alone_

_even ghosts get tired and go home_

_as they crawl back under the stones...'_

One hour later, after Dean's tears had subsided, he rolled over and finally noticed Sam. His eyes were completely red and soaked. He rubbed at them absent mindedly, and sat up on his elbows. Sam watched as Dean's demeanor changed from depressed to pissed all in one fell swoop. He jumped off the bed and in a rage rushed at the room barrier, slamming a closed fist into it, hard. Sam scooted back on the bed, now terrified of his brother. It was as if he had suddenly become the hulk without the colour change. Then as quickly as the mood swing came on, it left leaving Dean in a heap in front of the door. Sam leapt off the bed and threw his arms around his brother. Dean was once again racked with sobs.

"S, Sam..." Dean said into Sammy's ear, his hot breath lingering their. Sam turned Dean's face to his. Their eyes connected and Dean held Sam hard. He needed Sam, needed him to make everything better. He couldn't take this shit anymore, one more day like this would kill him and they both knew it.

'_And I wish there was something_

_please tell me there's something better_

_and I wish there was something more than this_

_Saturated Loneliness'_

Sam tilted Dean's face to his, like he had so many times before. Their first encounter had been one similar to this. It had been shortly before Sammy left for college, and it was the family's last hunt together. Their father had taken the boys to a bar, only to find out that they were going after a body stealer. When they went after it, it got Dean. John tried whatever spells he knew, but nothing worked against the damned thing. In retaliation, the daemon slammed John against a wall, knocking him unconscious. Sammy was left to fight the thing on his own. As he circled his brother, a sudden flash came into his head, and an urge overtook him. He screamed his brother's name, then ran at him, knocking him down a flight of stairs. They both fell together, the darkness escaping through Dean's throat. Blood flowed from his nose and mouth, but he was safe. Then before he knew what he was doing, he kissed his brother, kissed him as a lover kisses his mate. Dean's eyes fluttered momentarily from his pain, but he did not resist.

'_And I wish I could feel it_

_And I wish I steel it_

_abduct it, corrupt it_

_but I never can, it's just_

_Saturated Loneliness'_

Back from his leap, Sammy kissed Dean's cheek softly. He could taste the salt from his invisible tears. He kissed Dean's eyes then his forehead. Dean spoke softly, saying something that Sammy had wanted to hear since their father had died just three months ago.

"Sam, I'm sorry for everything." He looked at Sam, his eyes half closed. Sam would have thought he was asleep had it not have been for the slow words escaping his tender lips.

"Dad and I were never on the best of terms, as were we. I love you, and I never meant for you to be hurt. You are all I have now, and I don't want to destroy that." He leaned his head on Sammy's chest. So warm, so comforting. Dean breathed in his brother's smell. Ivory soap and Old Spice. He closed his eyes entirely, and an image flashed in front of his eyes.

Only a month before Sammy was set to leave for school, they had made love. It was awkward yet beautiful. As they laid in bed, Dean was half asleep when he heard the door open and his father stepped into the room. There were his sons, naked and sweaty, holding each other in a lover's embrace. He tried to leave the room, but his back slammed hard into Dean's dresser. Dean shot up, waking Sammy. Light enveloped them, and they stared down at the sheets that barely covered their bodies. John flew into a rage, grabbing Sammy by his locks and slamming him into the oak door, naked be damned.

Blood seeped from a cut that had begun to form at the base of his skull and down the door. Dean jumped out of bed, while putting on his shorts, and ran to his brothers side. His father barely saw him as his hand connected with his face, sending him to his ass. Dean cupped his nose with his hands, seeing blood and stars.

"What the FUCK is going on here?" Their father asked, still gripping Sammy's hair with a tight fist. Sam struggled, but the hand only held on tighter. Tears fell down his young face. Dean stood, but this time he steered clear of his father, making a wide berth around him. He stood at his right, and then lunged at him. John never saw it coming, and his grip on Sammy faltered. He slid down the door and smacked the floor with a thud.

The men struggled for position, when at last Dean ended on top. He held his father's arms down and there wasn't fear in his eyes, but true disgust. Dean caught this, and almost screamed. He slammed his father's hands down on the floor and stood.

"You are such a backwards asshole." John coughed as he sat up. Dean glared at him, his right hand balled into a fist. "My own sons...you're lucky your mother's dead...this would have killed her." John struggled to stand, but Dean was on him again.

"You watch what you say about her." Dean's face was right up in the old man's. John never flinched. He was seething with anger. His sons were faggots. "You speak for yourself, and no one else." Dean pushed his father away from him, steam almost pouring off of him. John stood, gripping the dresser hard, so hard his knuckles were white.

"I want him out, sooner rather than later." He pointed down at Sammy who was sobbing uncontrollably. John looked at them both one last time, then pushed past his crying son and left the room. They never talked about it again, but the next day Sammy was gone, without a goodbye, a letter or anything. Dean had hated himself for what had happened, but he never stopped loving Sammy. When they met up when Jess died, so much had happened that he could not hold it all back. The past came flooding back, and after a month together, their relationship, as odd as it was, began again.

'_Does the silence get lonely_

_Does the silence get lonely_

_Who know's_

_I've been hearing it tell me_

_I've been hearing it tell me "go home"_

'_cause the freaks are playing tonight_

_they packed up and turned out the lights_

_And I wish there was something _

_please tell me there's something better_

_and I wish there was something more than this_

_Saturated Loneliness'_

Dean snapped back from his memory and felt flushed. Sam grunted loudly, and tried to push away from Dean. He did not even realize that he had been holding his wrists, and causing fresh bruises. He let go and fell back against the door, hyperventilating. Sam watched his brother cautiously, not sure what the hell had just happened.

"Sam, I..." Dean caught a glimpse of something in his brother's eyes that he had never seen before. Fear of his brother. He stood, sliding up the door trying to avoid contact with Sam. His breathing slowed, but his heart never did. Sam stood as well, and took a step forward. Dean closed his eyes and turned toward the door. He was really fucking things up.

"Sam, I remembered what dad did when he found out about us..." He touched the door with a single finger tracing an old gouge on it. The touch chilled him to the bone. He continued.

"The blood falling from your head, his rage, the words." He turned back to Sam, who now had a look of concern on his barely aged face. The small scar over his eye was wet with sweat, and he was biting his lips.

Sam remembered all this vividly. That night his father had ignored him completely. He made him sleep in the guest room and made sure the door was locked. Sam cried the entire night, praying his father would at least say something to him. Not even when he drove him to the school did he speak a word. His eyes stayed on the road, the clunking of the old Ford the only sound. Sam had tried to change the radio station, but came close to having his fingers broken.

As the truck came to a lurching stop at the front of the school, John grabbed Sam's hand and held it tight, a slow tear fell from his eye. He looked out the windshield for a few minutes, then spoke only one word to his son.

"Why?"

Sam wanted to tell him everything, let loose a floodgate of emotions, wanted to say how much he and Dean truly loved each other, but all he could muster was a shrug of his thin shoulders. He was too scared to say a word.

It would be five years before they would ever speak again, and that night would never pass either of their lips, but the tension would forever be there. That was until after the accident. They had already fought about Dean's situation, and now he and his father were going to discuss what had occurred that night those five years prior. It was the worst thing Sammy could have ever done.

'_And I wish I could feel it_

_and I wish I could steal it_

_abduct it, corrupt it_

_but I never can, it's just saturated loneliness'_

"Sammy," His dad had said, trying to sit up in the hospital bed, but only managing to move about an inch. He groaned and closed his eyes. Sam moved his chair closer to the bedside. The older man was in obvious pain, but whatever he had to say must be pretty damn important.

"Do you remember what he started to talk of before you went off to college?" Sam started to say something, but it caught in his throat. He had prayed they would never have to discuss this. He and Dean had been intimate ever since they had gotten re-aquatinted, but his father did not need to know that.

Sam had nodded, then clasped his hands on top of his lap. He was ready for the fight of a century. His dad looked down at him, sadness in his eyes. This was not what he wanted to do right now, but the opportunity had presented itself, so he wanted to take advantage of it.

"Now explain to me why, why I caught you together?" This time he sat up fully, damn the pain. Sam looked directly into his father's cold eyes. He wanted to hit him, just to make this end.

"We were together because we wanted to be..." Sam never broke his stare with the man on the bed. John slammed his good hand on the tray at his right, and the left-over Jell-O splattered onto the floor. Sam never even flinched. This was what he was used to, what he had been ready for, the anger.

"Well, it's wrong, it's sick, and it's just plain disgusting." John turned away from Sam a moment, then burned a look into him that could mean only one thing. He was pissed beyond belief. Sam stood, almost knocking the chair down and leaned over his father. His breath was hot and angry. Sam could feel it on his cool damp skin. He kept his composure as he said something that he would regret forever.

"Dean and I love each other, and we love being together...in every sense of the word." The last few words were barely audibly, but John heard them none the less. His face flushed and he grabbed Sam's shirt collar and pulled him to him.

"You may be my son, but as of now, and from this day forward you are a dirty, filthy queer!" He pushed Sam back hard, then turned away from him. Sam gave his father one final look and left the room, never to speak with his dad again.

'_The bath water's cold_

_and this life's getting old...'_

Sam took Dean in his arms, and now it was his turn to cry. He had never told Dean any of this, and never intended to, until now. The look on Dean's face was enough to make Pinocchio tell a lie and not feel bad about it. He opened his mouth and told Dean everything, and within moments tears and words were intermingled. Dean took all the strength he had not to kiss Sammy right then, hold him, to comfort his baby brother for all the hell he been through. They were both so broken, such humpty dumpty's, but this time they could put each other back together if they tried hard enough.

Sam stopped abruptly, and put a hand to Dean's neck. He could feel his pulse beating hard and fast. Suddenly everything he had been worrying about drifted away. He pulled Dean toward him and kissed him slowly at first, then hard, so hard Dean groaned first from the pain, then from pleasure. Dean's hand slid to Sam's waist then down to his buttocks. He gripped it tight, sending shivers up Sam's back. Sammy's tongue entered his brother's mouth, flitting wildly past his teeth. When both tongues touched, a wild surge burst through them. Dean turned Sam around and slammed him against the door, never breaking the kiss.

Minutes passed then Dean pulled away. His eyes locked on Sammy's and a new feeling came over him. He ran a hand through Sammy's hair and laid his head on his brother's shoulder. So much shit had happened in the last three months, hell in the last lifetime, that at this very moment, none of that even mattered. He felt safe here, never wanted to leave his brother's side. Dean was just so vulnerable right now, and what he needed most was someone to hold, to keep him the tiniest bit sane.

"Sam...I love you so much..." His voice was low and deep. Sam put a hand to Dean's face.

"I know, and I love you."

'_And I wish I could feel it_

_and I wish I could feel it_

_and I wish I could steal it_

_abduct it, corrupt it_

_and I wish I could feel it_

_and I wish I could steal it_

_and I wish I could feel it_

_abduct it, corrupt it_

_but I never can,_

_never can_

_never can_

_never can'_


End file.
